


The real kind of party

by mirkwood131



Series: The pitiful chronicles of an idiot [5]
Category: BLACKPINK (Band), EXO (Band), 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Adolescent Sexuality, Age Difference, Angst, Crush, F/M, Fluff, Humor, Jealous Jeon Jungkook, Kissing, M/M, Partying, booze
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 03:51:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,429
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11959113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mirkwood131/pseuds/mirkwood131
Summary: Mission: "Make Park Jimin want me/jealous (at a party)"Status: FailedCause: Unexpected (drunk) sexual turn of events





	The real kind of party

**Author's Note:**

> btw, for everyone who might ask, chanyeol and jungkook will only be friends in the next chapters. and i don't suppose there will be more of jimin and rose.  
> enjoy :)

Hey, yo, dudes! How ya doin’?

If you couldn’t tell, that was me trying to be cool and funny, and of course, if you read all of my other four entries for “The pitiful chronicles of an idiot” you’d know that I’m so far away from these two words. I’m in a totally different world that’s called “JungKook’s dusty mind drawers that spit random, weird and pitiful ideas or obsessions”.

The thing that I’ve realized and you might have as well, is that my entire personality feels shallow. Like, I’m basic. But not the normal kind of basic. The basic that’s obsessed with someone and can’t talk or see anything else but that person. This is me. In this stories. But really, if you can’t believe from your comfortable seat on your couch, there’s more to me than this. I actually have a very active and interesting inner life that doesn’t gravitate solely around Jimin.

But really, have you seen those lips?

Of course I don’t have an entire collage of his lips. That would be weird, right?

Right.

Where were we?

Yes, I’m far more than my little tiny itsy bitsy crush on Jimin. Honestly. Who am I trying to kid? I’m writing this right now when I could watch Game of Thrones because I have a freaking Eurasia size big crush on my best friend and because I can’t talk to anyone about it, I choose to share all my private information and thoughts with a bunch of strangers that probably don’t care. I will reach a point when this will be a chronicle in which I’ll complain about me complaining. Wouldn’t that be so much fun?

At this point in the paragraph, you’re supposed to wonder what’s the reason for all of this monologue, where’s the action? You might even be tempted to click exit, but fear not, the juicy, embarrassing shit about me is about to come. 

When I ended the last entry, well, I was almost leaving for a freaking party with my best friend, Jimin. After I’ve just told a guy that liked me that “you know dude, you’re nice and all that shit, but really, I’d rather have my bff’s dick in my mouth not yours, you know. Nothing personal.” 

Another thing you should know about me.

I HATE PARTIES. THEY ARE HELL ON EARTH. They are the freaking Underworld, you know, that lovely place where all those dead people are going in Greek Mythology, ruled by Hades and guarded by the Cerberus (not to be confounded with my mother. She’s the virginity Cerberus). 

Now, you might think that because I hate them with a passion I actually went to a couple of them and formed an opinion. Well, I went to one, a year ago, Jimin made me do it, and I hated it. But don’t let these little details stand in our way.

The thing is, this time I’m going because I’m stubborn and jealous and because this might be a chance for me to make a move on Jimin. Oh, dear God, this sounds so bad when I write it down. Or at least make him jealous. Again. Which worked sooo amazingly well last time. 

And they say you’re supposed to learn from mistakes. 

But let’s go back to the slightly more interesting story, okay?

We meet in front of his house and go on foot to the party because it’s actually quite close to us. I’m feeling anxious and exhilarated as I walk besides Jimin, looking at how nice his skin glows in that artificial lightning of the streets lamps. How the white, crisp shirt seems to fit him so well, showcasing his toned chest and arms. I’m trying to be subtle in my staring but I suppose he finally notices even though I have the feeling he doesn’t want to. He turns towards me with a shy smile and says:

“I think Rose will be there.” 

“What Rose?” I ask, already feeling my heart drop in my stomach.

You know, I might be the most oblivious rock on the planet, but Jimin is even more than me. 

“Park Rose. She’ll be a senior this year.”

“What about her?”

“I think she’s into you.” Jimin says and suddenly, not only my heart drops, but also my mouth because how can Park Rose, president of “whatever fancy club I have no idea about” and “dancer in whatever thing” and blabla would actually like me. 

Why, Fortuna, why are you making everything so hard for me, and I’m not talking about my penis, thank you very much. 

“Oh.”

“Just Oh?”

“She’s totally not my type.” I quickly say and I honestly don’t even know why, because Rose is everybody’s type.

“Then what’s your type?” he asks, grabbing my arm with his tiny fingers.

_Dude, you don’t even know how much I’d love to suck on those fingers._

“Another type.” I say which translate to: Well, Jimin, of course. You, you dumbass. It’s always been you.

I’ve just remembered. In, like, 1 year, please, don’t shove this thing in my face. I’ll probably start crying because I’m such an idiot.

What’s so hard about confessing? Or just forgetting about a crush…

“If you say so.” he says, but we don’t have time to talk anymore, because we’re already in front of the Underworld, with all its lights and laughter and booze and shit.

And then, hell unleashes. Or just, my idiocy. Because honestly, I do the shittiest, stupidest thing in the existence of things for humans to do and feel afterwards for three years embarrassed. Actually, is not as bad as it sounds, but whatever. Let me be dramatic, you judgmental prick. That was extreme. Sorry. 

In my very humble opinion, these are the type of people you could find at a stupid party (no offence to the ones who like parties)

1\. The already drunk dude that I can very clearly see from the corner of my eyes right now, almost passed out on the couch, with a freaking bottle of beer in his hand.  
How’s that particular guy already smashed, well, not even the E.T hunters will ever know. 

2\. The guy that sheds his clothes like a snake. Enough said.

3\. The weird dancing dude, who thinks has all the moves, but looks really like a gorilla searching for its contact lenses.

4\. The girl who flirts with everybody.

5\. The sexy chick you want to at least talk to. Aka Rose. No offence. 

6\. The drunk girl. Yeah. Probably also making out with everybody.

7\. The normal people, I suppose. Few and far between.

8\. And, be prepared. The outsiders. The “What the fuck am I doing in here when I could at least sleep at home?!!”

If you couldn’t tell, the last one is me. But tonight, something has happened because I become someone else with the amazing help of liquid courage. 

Because, if you’d take just right now a picture, you’d see:

Me, getting out of the house clinging to a very tall guy that is far less drunk than me. In the back, Jimin looking at (I want to say ass, but) me with a perplexed expression on his face and a girl wrapped around him. Someone puking in the back and two almost dry humping on the couch. 

I think you get the idea.

Me, Jeon JungKook, madly in love with his best friend, the nut job who refused to be in a relationship with a great guy, leaving a party with a total stranger probably to have sex. In the back of a car. 

WTF

So, we reach his car, because of course he must have a car. He opens the front passenger’s door and I hop in (giggling) while he enters the driver’s part. As I look around, I realize this is no ordinary freaking truck that he borrowed from a friend to have a quick fuck. This a legit Mercedes with soft, black leather seats and all that shit that I can only dream about.

And then, through my hazy veil, I glance at him and I realized for the first time (good job, JungKook) that he’s freaking hot. He’s tall, his hair is bright red, his black t-shirt is sticking so deliciously (wtf JungKook) on his very muscular body and yeah, you can tell that I’m hot. Drunk. I wanted to say drunk.

Why didn’t Jimin stop me?

So, the engine starts and I feel great in there. 

Now, when the drunk me almost falls asleep, let’s rewind a bit to find out why I’m doing what I’m doing. Not because I’m smart. Of course not. 

_Rewind._

So, me and Jimin enter the house, which is already filled with people and I so quickly feel disgusted. I only want to leave.

“Soo, we won’t stay too much, right?” I yell into Jimin’s right ear.

“We’ll see. Come on, Kookie. We just got here. Have some fun.” he says, grabbing me by the shoulders to sort of hug me, but not hug me.

Alright, for, no kidding, two hours, I just flop around, from corner to corner, mentally judging everyone who acts like five year olds when they’re drunk. Somehow, nobody hits on me, not even the drunkest of girls or guys. I haven’t seen Jimin in a while and I’m starting to wonder where he is when I suddenly spot him standing on the couch, with no other than Rose on his lap, eating his face. Literally. 

And then, my jaw drops, once again and I feel angry, lost, sad, disappointed, hurt, whatever you can think of, because this is actually the first time that I see Jimin kiss someone. 

I feel stupid.

I feel like an idiot because I keep loving him, I keep hoping that something might change between us when it’s so clear that it can’t. Maybe he knows about my feelings but he purely doesn’t want to say anything about the llama in the room just because he’s afraid he might ruin our friendship. I think it’s already getting ruined.

By me.

But this is the stupid moment when I go to the improvised mini bar and grab a freaking bottle of vodka and gulp a lot of it in one go. It hurts and burns like hell and I feel like screaming but sooner or later, I feel lightheaded and surprisingly happy and slightly horny. Heil booze!!

And I’m really not so sure how I’ve found the guy that I’m sitting in the car with, but I suppose it doesn’t matter. I’m still so drunk when we reach his apartment, I suppose, so he has to carry me in his arms. It seems like I like it, because I hide my face in his shirt and drape my hands around his neck, which makes him laugh or giggle, whatever.

It’s dark in the apartment when we enter as well as in the bedroom I think, but he softly lays me on the bed but the drunk me doesn’t let him go, so he has to cradle me in his arms.

And I fall asleep.

Were you expecting sex or other drunk shit? 

Well, it seems like drunk I’m as boring as when I’m sober. 

To the wonders of youth and shit, when I finally wake up in the morning, I only feel slightly dizzy, but nothing else, really. The light is too bright, but I can manage. I almost jump in surprise when I realize that wrapped around me are two arms that don’t belong to my mother or Jimin. 

And this is the point when I almost scream in panic, thinking about the worst. But then, I look down and yep, all the clothes are on my body. And on his. So I’m still a very pathetic virgin who couldn’t even have sex when he was drunk.

The stranger next to me shifts in his sleep and brings me even closer to him and then, well, then, he kisses me on the cheek, near my ear. 

“Morning!” he says into my ear and I shiver.

I suppose he can feel it because he laughs: ”You’re cute. Last night you were pretty wasted, you know? But still adorable.” he says and brushes off a hair strand from my eyes.

I don’t want to turn around to see his face, to feel even more ashamed of what I’ve done. But suddenly, the image of Jimin kissing a girl he said she actually liked me stirs something inside me, because I turn around to face him. He has that bright red hair and nice smile as he looks down at me. 

What should I say? I don’t even know but there’s not much time to think about anything because he cups my face to bring it closer to his, so close that our lips lightly touch. He nibbles at my lower lip, pressing me onto his chest, kisses me, slips his tongue inside my mouth and somehow I don’t think about Jimin. It feels warm and sweet, the way he’s so careful not to do anything too fast, to wait for me. I get the courage to bite his bottom lip and suck it and run my tongue over his teeth, over his own tongue.

“I’m so sorry…my breath must stink…” I say out of the blue, when he leaves a little bit of space between us. 

“That’s fine.” he says, giving me a peck. 

My hand rests on his chest and it pulls his t-shirt, before it slips underneath, on the heated skin. 

“I haven’t asked for your name.” he asks.

“JungKook.” I almost whisper. 

“Yours?”

“Chanyeol.” he says, smiling. 

There’s no point in telling you that after a couple more minutes of making out my phone rings, with Jimin’s picture and name plastered all over it. There’s no point in telling you that I don’t answer because I feel too guilty for whatever reason, that I stand up from the bed and head for the exit but Chanyeol grabs my hand and kisses me, asking for my number and I give it to him. 

There’s no point, because I feel like there’s no point in anything, because the person that I love and I’d do anything for, doesn’t feel the same, doesn’t look at me to feel his chest burst with happiness and pain and love. Only sees another friend. 

And maybe because that’s why I give the strangers my number. Because I’m stupidly hurting and I need someone to hurt less.

**Author's Note:**

> I love comments :)


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